


Can't Leave You Here Alone

by EnnaSparks



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Angst, F/M, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Somewhere in Season 3, based on that ep of the clone wars with the slavers, but not any weirder than that episode was, i mean seriously, not a children's show folks, weird men obsessed with art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24670282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnnaSparks/pseuds/EnnaSparks
Summary: On a mission to acquire goods for the Rebellion, Ezra and Sabine are captured by slavers. In order to escape, they are forced to make a series of increasingly more bizarre decisions that test both their wills and their relationship.
Relationships: Ezra Bridger/Sabine Wren
Comments: 13
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! I've fallen down a hole when it comes to Rebels and now cannot get out. I saw that episode of the Clone Wars where they are captured by slavers and thought, "hey, what if I did that, but with more feelings?" So, that's what this is. There are implications of the possibility of rape, but nothing at all happens. It's just more the fear than anything, but, if that is something that you're not a fan of, turn away now. Also, I'm setting this somewhere in the realm of season 3ish? I'm picturing them as being older teens. I'm the only person who has read this as of now, so apologies for any dumb mistakes. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! I'd love to make some friends in this community, so drop me a comment if you like the story, or just want a new pal.

_Is this how my life is always going to be?_ Sabine Wren couldn’t help but think as she dashed down yet another alley on yet another backwater planet with her weapons drawn.  
  
It wasn’t like she resented her life as a rebel. In fact, her current position gave her far more fulfillment than anything else she’d done in her relatively short life. It wasn’t like being at the Imperial Academy had done much for her self-actualization. At least working for the rebels allowed her the chance to put good into the galaxy rather than evil, and she got to blow things up. Which was, clearly, an added bonus.  
  
Her pursuers, unknown sleemos likely tipped off to their presence by their “contact,” shot at her, but the blow was glancing and only bounced off her armor. Sometimes, she loved being Mandalorian.  
  
“Alright, Sabine?” Her companion shouted from behind her left shoulder. It was, of course, Ezra Bridger. The boy, now man, who had made her safety a priority of his from the beginning of their association. It was annoying, but it was also sweet. Not that she’d ever tell him that to his face.  
  
“Fine, Ezra. Think we can shake ‘em?”  
  
“Sure. Who are these guys anyways?”  
  
“Knowing where we are, I’m going to go with either slavers or bounty hunters. Take your pick.”  
  
“Is neither a choice?”  
  
“Only if you speed up!” She dashed forwards, weapons drawn and filled with confidence. It wasn’t like they hadn’t been in tighter spots. With Ezra at her back and her blasters in her hands, they couldn’t fail.  
  
It was, of course, at that moment that she crossed a threshold into an electricity field, which immediately set her body alight with pain.  
  
_Damn. _She thought, right as Ezra shouted,  
  
“SABINE! No!”  
  
Then, as tended to happen too often in her world, everything went black.  
  
\---------------  
  
When she woke, it was to the sound of Ezra’s voice.  
  
“Of course you’ll be alright.” He muttered, softly, as if he were talking to himself and not to her. “You’re Sabine. I’m half convinced you’re immortal or something. Or maybe just blessed by whatever gods you Mandalorians worship…”  
  
He trailed off, likely noticing her return to consciousness.  
  
“Sabine! Thank the Force! I thought you’d never wake up. You ok? Hurt anywhere?”  
  
She groaned as she pulled herself into a sitting position. A quick inventory showed that she’d been stripped of her armor and weapons, left only in the tight-fitting black bodysuit she wore underneath. Aside from a couple of bumps and bruises, she seemed to be unharmed. Well, unharmed physically. Her ego was aching.  
  
“I’m ok. Just bumps and bruises. Where are we, Ezra? What happened?”  
  
His bright blue eyes scanned her frame, clearly not buying her assessment. His short-cropped hair was slightly mussed and there was a shallow cut on his forehead. He was, like her, lacking weapons, but the most significant change was the metal collar around his neck. She reached up and found a similar item gracing her own.  
  
Ezra reached forward and gently pulled her hand away from her neck.  
  
“Don’t pull on them. They’ll shock you if you do. Trust me, it’s nasty.”  
  
She knew then what had happened to them, and shock coursed through her body leaving her ice cold.  
  
“Slavers.”  
  
“Yeah. They’ve got us underground somewhere. Worse, they drugged me with something, I don’t know what. The Force is… muted. I can’t reach out.”  
  
“How’d they know…”  
  
“That I was a Jedi?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Seems our contact gave them everything. We were set up, Sabine. There were no supplies.”  
  
He then pulled away, removing his hand from hers, but her instincts had her grabbing him and pulling him back. She pulled him in fully, wrapping her arms around him. He stiffened, clearly surprised by her actions, but relaxed quickly, wrapping his arms around her back. She pulled even closer and put her lips next to his ear.  
  
“Do you think they’re watching us?”  
  
He copied her show of intimacy and leaned in, his breath warm on the shell of her ear.  
  
“Yes. I think they’ve got cameras. Couldn’t tell you where, though.”  
  
His heart was racing. She could feel it against her chest.  
  
“We’ll be careful then. Nothing about the base, nothing about the others.”  
  
She released him then but found herself reluctant to let go of him entirely.  
  
She’d known for a while that she had… feelings of some sort for her friend. He’d been a ridiculous child, full of embarrassing lines and passes, but he had grown and matured in the last two years. He was more thoughtful these days and slightly more careful. He was also, and she hated to admit it, more handsome. Gone was the street-rat that had stolen from them on the streets of Lothal. That kid had recently been replaced by a young man, a young Jedi, who carried himself with dignity and used his, rather significant, abilities to help rather than harm.  
  
Ezra Bridger was a good person. He loved his Ghost family. He loved his home planet. He loved animals and creatures of all sorts, but, most importantly, he loved Sabine Wren. Of this, she was certain. Sure, he was more subtle these days, far more subtle in fact, but the devotion to her safety and desire for her attention had never faded.  
  
She found, these days, that he rarely left her mind. She found she desired his touch, his attention, and his time more than she had before.  
  
She knew what that meant. She’d lived long enough with Kanan and Hera to understand the signs.  
  
She cared deeply about Ezra Bridger, and she would die before she saw him hurt. A fact that made their current situation rather… sticky. Slavers weren’t known for being decent types, and she figured that they’d make quick work of selling a Mandalorian woman and a handsome young Jedi.  
  
They were in trouble. Real trouble. She needed to get them out fast.  
  
At least Ezra’s hand was in hers. That was one bright spot.  
  
Just then, the door to their cell slammed open. She jumped into a defensive stance, putting herself between Ezra and the door.  
  
A human male, dressed in fine robes of ruby red and deep purple, strutted into their cell. He was tall, at least as tall as Kanan if not taller, and he was built like a fighter. His robes didn’t mask his muscular frame or hide the overwhelming number of weapons hanging from his belt. His hair was a honeyed blonde and a beard of a slightly darker shade wound its way around his face, culminating in a truly horrific mustache. He was holding a device in his hand, one that she had seen before during her bounty hunting days.  
  
“Good afternoon! Nice to see you awake, Sabine Wren. Your Jedi here was worried.”  
  
“What do you want from us?” She inquired, figuring she knew the answer.  
  
Rather than answer he stalked towards them. He reached out one sinewy hand and grasped her chin. He pulled her towards him, giving her a glimpse of his dark, nearly black, eyes. He turned her head left and right, as if he were studying an animal. The cold returned to her limbs. Without her weapons and armor, she felt horribly vulnerable.  
  
She understood men, and she understood how the system worked.  
  
Her hands started to shake.  
  
“GET AWAY FROM HER!” Ezra shouted, pulling her away from the slaver’s grasp and inserting himself between them.  
  
The man simply laughed.  
  
“Oh, young Jedi. Foolish, silly move. Gives me a good reason to do this.”  
  
He pressed a button on the device in his hand, and Ezra fell to the ground shaking.  
  
He’d been electrocuted. The man had electrocuted Ezra!  
  
She dropped to the ground next to Ezra, pulling his shivering form into her lap.  
  
She looked up at the slaver, with as much defiance as she could muster.  
  
“What do you want with us?” She repeated, hoping to distract him from Ezra for a moment.  
  
“Sweet Sabine Wren, I want everything from you.”  
  
With that, he motioned behind him and two guards entered, holding buzz batons.  
  
“Take the girl. If the boy resists, hurt her.” He then walked out, leaving Sabine buzzing with adrenaline.  
  
“No, no, no..” Ezra muttered from her lap, as he tried to pull himself up into a sitting position.  
  
The guards advanced, grabbing Sabine by her arms and forcibly pulling her away from Ezra.  
  
“NO!” He shouted, grasping weakly at one their ankles. “Take me instead. Please, take me instead.”  
  
“Boss doesn’t want you.” One of the guards answered through his helmet modulator.  
  
“Come on, girl. Say your goodbyes.” The other guard muttered, unfeelingly.  
  
Ezra again attempted to stand but was clearly still hurting.  
  
“I’m a Jedi. I’ll sell for more. Guaranteed. You don’t need her. Please, take me.”  
  
She knew that his attempts were futile. The man wanted her and her alone.  
  
“Ezra, I’ll be ok. I’ll be back. Promise.” The guards pulled her towards the door, and she blinked tears from her eyes.  
  
“Love you.” She whispered, afraid that it was her last chance.  
  
They pulled her through the door and put a black bag over her head before she could see his response, but she could hear him shouting as they practically dragged her away.  
  
“Sabine! Sabine! I know! I’ll find you. I promise.”  
  
She closed her eyes and let her limbs fall limp. It wasn’t like Ezra to make promises he couldn’t keep.  
  
\---------------  
  
When they pulled the bag away from her head, she was surprised to find herself in a rather ornate office. The walls were lined with rich, red wallpaper and covered in art. She recognized pieces from several different Mandalorian artists and from many, many others. Significantly, there was a small statuette on the desk that she recognized as the work of a famous Corusanti artist. It was, to say the least, an odd place to be brought by a slaver.  
  
“Ah. Ms. Wren. Lovey to see you again! I hope the journey wasn’t too… unpleasant.”  
  
She whipped her head around to find the man from before smiling at her from the left side of the door. He motioned the guards away with a flick of his wrist. As they left, she contemplated jumping him and taking her chances, but his hand remained on the device he had used on Ezra earlier. She figured one wrong move would leave her writhing on the floor. So, she’d watch and wait, and she’d put as much distance between them as she could. The statuette could be a decent weapon, but it would be a shame to destroy…  
  
Her desperate thoughts were interrupted by the slaver.  
  
“Now that we’re alone, I’d like to present you with a proposition, Ms. Wren.” He moved forward and she moved back.  
  
She could do this. She’d fight back. He wouldn’t hurt her without her making him bleed, she would make sure of it. Her confidence was belied by her shaking hands and shuttering heart.  
  
The man cocked his head at her.  
  
“Oh, Sabine. Not that kind of proposition. I’m not a brute. I’m not interested in you for your youth and beauty, though you possess both in spades. Rather, I’m interested in you as an artist. As you can see, I’m somewhat of a collector…”  
  
“My art?!” She couldn’t help but be relieved.  
  
“Yes, your art. You have a talent. A true vision. I’ve seen images of your little projects, and they… intrigue me.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“What do you want with me then? To paint?”  
  
“Yes. I want your work to grace my walls. I have a gallery in this complex where I’d like to show it. Even better, I can sell it. I’d like to leave the trade, you know. It’s all so… barbaric. No vision. No beauty.”  
  
“If I paint for you, you’ll let us go?”  
  
“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. The bounties on both of your heads are so high I could live like a god among men on them. No. The proposition is this: if you paint for me, I’ll let your little Jedi friend keep all of his fingers and toes.”  
  
Her heart stuttered again. She couldn’t let Ezra be hurt. That was out of the question.  
  
“Thought you said you didn’t like how barbaric this all was?”  
  
“I’ll really care when I get out. Right now, I’ll use what I can get. So, Sabine Wren, will you paint for me?”  
  
There was no part of her that wanted to do anything for this horrible man, but with Ezra on the line she had no choice.  
  
“I’ll do it.”  
  
“Good. Oh, and one more thing. Our little arrangement here… It can’t be public knowledge.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“The men I work with have little time for art. All of my… interests are kept well-hidden. They think I’m like them, uncivilized and interested in only the worst. A crack in my façade could lead to a coup, and I need this position, and your bounties, to launch me into my new life.”  
  
“So… what do you want me to do?”  
  
“You’ll be my personal servant, of course! We’ll let them draw their own conclusions, and the title will allow you to access my gallery where you can work.”  
  
She was somewhat aghast at the man’s brazen proposition. He wanted her to…  
  
“Wait. I’ll be able to tell my friend, right?”  
  
The man smirked, horrible mustache twitching upward like the tail on a loth-cat.  
  
“Oh no, Sabine. It’s his reaction that will keep me safe from suspicion. I need him to sell it. Anyway, with the trouble he’s causing, I think he deserves a little shake-up.”  
  
A jolt of shock raced up her spine. What had Ezra done now?  
  
“Trouble?” She tried, as nonchalantly as she could.  
  
“He sicced a swarm of biting rodents on his guards and attempted an escape. They were forced to… subdue him rather unpleasantly.”  
  
Oh, Ezra. No.  
  
“Anyway, if you’d like him to remain whole for another day, you’ll keep quiet. Now, you bore me. There are clothes in the adjoining room for you. If you’re to be my personal servant, you’ll need to look the part.”  
  
She couldn’t wait to see what abomination awaited her.  
  
The man turned on his heel and headed for the door.  
  
“When you finish, knock twice and they’ll take you back to your friend. Remember, disobedience means pain for your Jedi. You start work tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”  
  
With that, he exited, the door hissing shut behind him. She didn’t know his name, but she knew his type. He was arrogant, assuming, and overbearing, and she figured she could play him. A plan began to form in her mind, a good plan, one that would save both her and Ezra and would give her the chance to knock a fool down from his pedestal.  
  
First, she had to change clothes.  
  
\---------------  
  
She was shoved back into the cell unceremoniously and without a single word exchanged between her and the guards. She appreciated that at least. What she didn’t appreciate was her new “look.”  
  
Her new outfit was, to put it mildly, awful. She looked like she belonged in a skeevy Hutt hideout. She’d been given a pair of tight, pale blue leggings that reached to her ankles but clung to her like a second skin. The top that accompanied it was little more than a strip of matching blue fabric around her breasts. There were “sleeves,” but they were gauzy and itchy and completely translucent. At least they only brushed over her shoulders, leaving her room to move her arms freely. Good. She’d need that for her plan. Worst of all, they’d taken her practical boots and replaced them with uncomfortable sandals.  
  
She was going to kill that slaver. She was going to beat him to death with a sandal.  
  
Ezra was curled up against the wall, arms around his knees in a posture that screamed defeat.  
  
His head shot up at her return.  
  
“Sabine! Oh Force, what did they do to you?! Are you ok? I tried… I tried to get to you, but they drugged me again. I can’t feel anything. It’s like being in a completely dark and silent room, ‘Bine, and I…”  
  
He trailed off, and she could tell he was fighting tears.  
  
“I couldn’t get to you. I’m sorry. Force, I’m so sorry.”  
  
She slumped down next to him, close enough that her shoulder brushed his.  
  
“You shouldn’t have done that. I told you I had it under control. I promised you, Ezra.”  
  
He turned to her, blue eyes shining with equal parts despair and determination.  
  
“What happened, ‘Bine? Are you alright? What… What can I do?”  
  
She wanted to tell him then and there about the slaver’s arrangement. She hated to see him so concerned, and she certainly didn’t want him trying and failing to escape again. She didn’t know what to say to him. Words weren’t… Well, they weren’t her specialty.  
  
“It’s ok, Ezra. I’m fine.”  
  
That, clearly, did not do the trick. His blue eyes widened, the despair overtaking the determination.  
  
“Did they… Did he…”  
  
“Ezra, don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”  
  
“I know! I know that, Sabine! But, you shouldn’t have to. I should have… I should have fought them off before. I should have escaped. I’m a Jedi, for Force sake! I should be able to protect the people I care about!”  
  
She turned to him then and took his hands in hers. He was quaking uncontrollably, but she couldn’t tell if it was due to despair or rage.  
  
“Ezra. There’s nothing we can do right now. We need to sit tight, and you need to _trust me _.” She emphasized the last two words, hoping without hope that he would understand her hidden meaning.  
  
Surprisingly, he straightened, seemingly understanding that she, at the very least, had a plan.  
  
He pulled her to him and rearranged them so that his arm rested behind her.  
  
“I trust you, Sabine Wren. I always have.”  
  
She smiled at his declaration. It was so… Ezra. Understated, but still tinged with drama.  
  
She leaned her head onto his shoulder, angling so that she could see his face out of the corner of her eye.  
  
“Did you mean it?” He whispered, so softly that it took her a moment to register the question.  
  
How did she answer that? When she’d been pulled away, she figured she was being separated from him and that she might not see him for some time, maybe ever. Now, he was right here, his chest moving and his pulse beating in his neck. She turned slightly, angling her nose into his neck. She breathed deeply, inhaling his distinctive scent, one that she’d teased him for early on in their developing friendship. With that, she decided on her words.  
  
“Yes. I meant it. Every word.”  
  
She felt rather than saw his smile.  
  
“Good.”  
  
He shifted again, forcing her to lift her head from his shoulder. He put his hands on her shoulders and pressed his forehead to hers.  
  
“Then this won’t be weird.”  
  
Then, he kissed her, and the world stopped.  
  
It wasn’t a perfect kiss. It was awkward, clumsy, and perhaps a little sloppy on Ezra’s part, but the emotion behind it was so pure that she couldn’t bring herself to care about the execution. She lost herself in him, deepening the kiss and running her fingers through his short hair.  
  
The moment was ruined by a loud clanging from outside the cell. Someone was pounding against the door.  
  
“Hey, you! Quit that!”  
  
She pulled away from Ezra, red coloring her cheeks.  
  
“We’re going to be ok, Ezra. I promise.” She whispered, oddly glad that he was by her side even in this horrible place.  
  
She was going to get him out. She was going to save him. That was a promise.____


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's past midnight, and I just wanted to get this out there because I finally finished a fanfic project. I'm bad to leave things as WIPs so this is... progress? 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! I enjoyed writing it. Sadly, I'm still the only reader of this story. Thus, if there are dumb mistakes, blame my tired brain and please forgive me. :)

The next morning saw Sabine dragged from the cell in the same undignified way as before. This time, Ezra refrained from grabbing any ankles, but his blue eyes remained wide and concerned. He trusted her, clearly, but he couldn’t mask his worry. She also figured he wanted to be more… proactive in their escape plan. Too bad. She had this.  
  
She was taken, this time, to an open and empty room. It was still underground, no windows or skylights, but it had tall ceilings and walls that were painted in various shades of beige. It was a nice room, welcoming in a way that the rest of the complex was certainly not.  
  
Her host was back, mustache as atrocious as ever and ego on full display.  
  
“Ms. Wren! Welcome to my gallery. It is, as of now, a little empty. My favorite pieces are in my office and the rest are… hidden for the time being. For now, this will be your space. Your supplies are over there. I picked items that I’ve seen used in your past works. I hope that they will be sufficient.”  
  
She glanced over to find a series of canvases and paints laid out on the floor in an orderly manner. He was right, most of them were things she’d used before. They were paints like the ones she had stashed away in various parts of the Ghost. She generally didn’t paint on canvases, but she’d take what she could get in this, admittedly odd, situation. She turned away from the slaver and grinned to herself. Step one, initiated. Time to be Specter Five.  
  
“What… What do you want me to paint, exactly?” She asked, hoping she sounded frightened enough.  
  
“I don’t put constraints on art, Sabine. Paint as you desire, but don’t take too long. I want three paintings, good ones, by next week. I’ve got a buyer coming in from the Outer Rim. A collector too, of sorts. You should be interested in him as well. He’s interested in your Jedi. Wants to meet him. Inspect him. Might even offer me a better deal for him than the Empire.” He grinned then, mustache twitching from both ends this time like a hairy grubworm. She tried to repress a shutter at the horrible image but failed.  
  
He didn’t notice.  
  
“Anyways, perhaps if the art sells for enough I’ll be able to hold onto your Jedi for you. You can go to the Empire together. Die together if you want, if you must.” He grinned again, more sinister than last time.  
  
“Time to paint, Sabine Wren. You’ve got a week to impress me. So, impress me. Get started.”  
  
“Wait.” She called out, manufacturing a quavering voice. “There are some things I’m going to need.”  
  
\---------------  
  
Even despite the circumstances, Sabine was glad to be painting again. Every time she painted, she entered into some sort of trance. She imagined sometimes that it was how Ezra felt when he meditated, but she couldn’t be completely sure. Time had no meaning when she painted, her mind was a wash of colors, one fading into the next, inspiration taking over logic and feeling triumphing over all else. As someone who was too often caught up in the physical, she was glad for the escape. Unfortunately, her haze of inspiration sometimes led to unintentional consequences.  
  
Like today.  
  
Today, she was staring at her most recent creation. It was a lovely work. Something to be proud of, truly. Sadly, it was probably not what her generous benefactor was looking for. It was a lovely portrait of… Ezra. He was posed heroically, holding his green lightsaber over his head with both hands. He was surrounded by an aura of light; oranges, yellows, and reds in perfect swirling patterns, winding around each other to form the rough outline of her phoenix. His eyes were a brilliant sapphire, bursts of starlight radiating from their center. He was dressed in a long brown cloak, an idea whose origin she couldn’t quite place.  
  
It was, in a word, beautiful. Beautiful and completely hers. An image of an innermost feeling, one that she couldn’t put into words. It was what she felt, what she knew without a doubt. She knew that she had the greatest admiration for Ezra Bridger. That she trusted him with her life, with her secrets, and with her steely heart. This piece couldn’t belong to a slaver.  
  
She had to paint over it, and she needed to do so quickly.  
  
She grabbed her black paint, hesitating just a single moment to commit the piece to memory.  
  
He’d see it one day.  
  
Black over sapphire blue, and it was done. Not a moment too soon either, because just as she finished, the slaver reentered, smirk firmly in place.  
  
“I got what you said you needed.” He stated and motioned to the door. A man entered behind him, probably another slave from his state of dress, and placed a bundle at her feet. She lowered herself to the ground to inspect it, hiding her grin in her hasty movements. The slaver stalked towards her canvas, boots (she missed hers, dammit) clicking against the floor.  
  
“The great Sabine Wren, stumped by a black canvas, hmm? I thought you’d be further along, dear.”  
  
Dear? Gross.  
  
“Need I remind you of our proposition? The one where you paint and your Jedi keeps both of his pretty eyes in his head?”  
  
“You’ll get your pieces. You can’t force inspiration, you know.”  
  
He chuckled, dark eyes flashing in what she assumed he saw as threatening.  
  
“You’d better try. Not today, though. Today, you’re done. Get some rest, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” He turned to go, robes swishing around his long legs.  
  
“Wait.”  
  
He turned around, eyes now twinkling with barely hidden amusement.  
  
“What?”  
  
“You have me at a disadvantage.”  
  
“In what way?”  
  
“You know me, my name and my art, but I don’t know you.”  
  
“What does it matter?”  
  
She had him flustered. Good. She moved towards him, swaying her hips and leaning forward just slightly.  
  
“It doesn’t. Call it curiosity.”  
  
He stopped for a moment, his eyes dancing over her figure.  
  
“You can call me… Akon.”  
  
With that, he stalked out of the room, much faster than he had entered. She grinned behind her hand as the guards approached. She loved men. She glanced over at the bundle of tools at her feet.  
  
_I’ll be back for you, lovelies. _She thought as the guards did their typical dance.  
  
\---------------  
  
Ezra was meditating when she arrived back at their lovely accommodations. It was almost funny the way that he stumbled to his feet, nearly tripping, when she entered.  
  
“Sabine! You ok?”  
  
Force. He was adorable.  
  
She shot him a loaded look, one that she hoped said _don’t be stupid here. _He seemed to get the general message and sat down, back against the wall. She joined him, sliding down the wall until she reached a sitting position.  
  
“I’m good. Did they bring us anything to eat?”  
  
He jumped to his feet again, springy, like a loth-cat.  
  
“We’ve got a lovely selection. Would you like disgusting, re-hydrated bread or disgusting, re-hydrated bread but smaller?”  
  
She grinned at him.  
  
“Good to know we’ve got options. I’ll take the bread please.”  
  
He handed her the larger piece, and she flushed. It was nice. Thoughtful. Didn’t stop her from ripping off a small piece of it and handing it to him.  
  
“You’re a growing boy.” She said, laughter in her voice.  
  
“I’m not hungry.” He replied, but his laser focus on the bread seemed to bely his claim.  
  
“Take it, loth-rat. You’re bigger than me these days. You need it.”  
  
He did, but reluctantly. Good to know he’d at least listen to her sometimes.  
  
When they finished eating, she leaned her head onto his shoulder and allowed his familiar scent to surround her.  
  
“You know,” She began, heart racing. “You’re at a nice height for this. We’re… complementary.”  
  
He stretched his arm behind her and pulled her close.  
  
“Best thing about growing up. Worst part is the whole ‘constantly needing new clothes’ thing.”  
  
“Maybe you should try something other than orange.”  
  
“I would never.”  
  
She chuckled. Glad that he seemed to have moved past the protectiveness. He trusted her to protect herself. Force, she loved that. She inched closer, moving her long frame until she was practically straddling him. She placed a hand over his heart, closing her eyes and focusing on the feeling of him being beneath her, alive and breathing. She would do anything to keep him that way.  
  
She leaned into him, hoping that they looked intimate enough to fool whoever happened to be watching.  
  
“Listen to me, Ezra.” She whispered, lips against his neck. “I’ve got a plan. There’s someone coming that’s interested in you, interested in seeing you. They’ll probably leave you alone with them. If you were free of that device, could you overpower them, even without the Force?”  
  
He took the cue and kissed her. Their lips clashing and catching for a moment until he leaned close, mimicking her earlier movement.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
She smiled, moving her lips back to his. She kissed him once, briefly and then reared back.  
  
“Good.”  
  
The plan was in motion.  
  
\---------------  
  
The next few days passed in a blur. She woke every morning in Ezra’s arms, was taken (always rudely) to the gallery where she would work for most of the day, and was returned every night to enjoy her delightful bread and Ezra. It wasn’t… awful. She didn’t create any more homages to her feelings, but despite that, her work was decent. Nothing she was particularly proud of, but it seemed to impress Akon which he expressed with all the subtlety of Ezra’s early attempts at flirting. Which was to say, none.  
  
The man visited her everyday, and everyday she played him. She had him convinced that she had given up and that she was desperate to impress him, and to protect Ezra. It was ridiculously easy. Additionally, she figured she had him at least slightly distracted. He brought her new and increasingly ridiculous outfits as the days went on, and she wore them with simpering grace. All the while, she was stealing the metal tools she had requested right from under his nose. He never bothered to check, so convinced was he of her helplessness.  
  
She finished her three pieces the day before the collector was due to arrive. They were colorful, but nothing that would impress an actual artist. She couldn’t wait to see Akon attempt to convince someone of taste to buy her items. It was clear that the fool was in over his head.  
  
Every night, she worked on Ezra’s restraint under the guise of over-the-top intimacy. It was ridiculously fun to see how long they could go before the guards tired of them. Of course, it wasn’t all strategic. She made sure to enjoy herself as well. She was still young. She felt she was entitled.  
  
The night before the collector was due to arrive, she briefed Ezra while, once again straddling him, blocking his body with hers.  
  
She whispered into his ear, “It’s mostly removed, you’ll need to pull here,” She grabbed his hand and quickly placed it against a piece of the neck restraint before putting it on her breast. “to get it to release.”  
  
She hoped he was listening because it looked as though his brilliant eyes were about to pop out of his skull.  
  
“You got that?” She murmured, her good humoring coloring her tone.  
  
“Oh… Oh yeah. Pull… there.” He muttered, pulling her into a deep kiss.  
  
That, it seemed, was the breaking point. There was an expected clanging against the door and the sound of exaggerated gagging.  
  
They pulled apart, giggling like schoolchildren, and rearranged so that they were sitting next to, and not on top of, each other.  
  
He turned to her then, his face seeming to exude a newfound seriousness.  
  
“Sabine. Whatever happens, I want you to know…”  
  
“No!” She stopped him. She didn’t need to hear it now. She wanted to hear it when they were safe, when they could be normal kids for half a moment and steal some time alone. She didn’t want him to say… it… like she had, out of fear.  
  
“I wanna hear it on the other side.”  
  
“What?” He looked surprised and maybe a little hurt.  
  
“Say to me when we’re safe.”  
  
“Sabine…”  
  
“No. Not out of fear. Not again. I’m going to protect you, Ezra. I promise.”  
  
He smiled then, understanding her, like he always did these days.  
  
“Ok. On the other side, Sabine Wren.”  
  
She fell asleep wrapped in his arms, knowing, somehow, that they were going to be ok.  
  
\---------------  
  
The next morning dawned like all the others, with angry guards hauling her out of sleep and away from Ezra. He didn’t look scared, just determined, and she was insanely proud of him for that.  
  
“I’ll see you, Sabine.” He said, each word dripping with devotion.  
  
“Not if I see you first.” She replied as she was dragged from the cell, once again. Hopefully, for the last time.  
  
When she arrived at the gallery, it had been transformed. Apparently, her good friend Akon had forced his slave labor force to decorate. Her paintings were displayed alongside a good many others, including those that she’d seen on her first day in captivity. In the center of the gallery, Akon had installed an ornate dining table, one that would look right at home in her family’s estate on Krownest.  
  
It was ostentatious and frankly hideous. She hoped the collector hated it as much as she did.  
  
Akon was dressed in his typical purples and reds but had twirled and greased his mustache even more than he usually did. Another hideous installation.  
  
“Sabine! Glad to see you’re up. Our guests are coming in as we speak. I thought it would be lovely to treat them to breakfast in our gallery.”  
  
Our? Gross.  
  
“Guests?” She inquired, remembering him mentioning only one.  
  
“Oh yes. The collector is bringing his consort. Apparently, she’s the one who really likes the art. He has… other interests. Like your Jedi, for example.”  
  
At that moment there was a knock at the gallery door.  
  
“Ah! Here they are. Look sharp, Sabine.”  
  
The doors slid open, grinding across the gallery floors, to reveal…  
  
Kanan and Hera. With Chopper.  
  
They were both dressed for the part. Kanan was dressed in a navy suit, paired with a crisp white shirt with a high collar, pinned closed with a silver pin in the shape of his typical triangle. His hair was down and neatly styled, and he wore a pair of tinted black glasses to hide his eyes. Hera wore a flowing gown in a similar navy, and a sliver net was draped over her head and lekku. Chopper looked like… Well, he looked like Chopper.  
  
She had never been so glad to see them. It took all of her willpower not to run to them, but she figured they had a plan. Excellent. She had a plan, they had a plan. Everything was going to work out just fine.  
  
“Mr. Karruk! Lovely to see you, and lovely to see, um…” Akon started.  
  
“Alaya.” Hera interjected, voice smooth and calm, but she was looking at Sabine, concern in her eyes.  
  
“Yes, yes. Welcome to you both. This is Sabine, a recent acquisition and a talented artist. She’ll be serving us today.”  
  
Sabine rolled her eyes internally.  
  
“Lovely to meet you both.” She said, doing her best to keep from laughing.  
  
“A pleasure, I’m sure.” Kanan said, adopting a horrible Corusanti accent.  
  
She did laugh then but disguised it as a cough.  
  
“But,” Kanan continued. “I’m not really interested in pleasantries. Where’s the Jedi boy you promised?”  
  
Akon looked surprised at Kanan’s rudeness.  
  
“Well, I was imagining that you could see him later, after you’ve perused…”  
  
“I’d rather see him now.”  
  
Akon looked disappointed.  
  
“Um. Well. Very well. I’ll have him brought here. Perhaps, while they fetch him you can enjoy breakfast and peruse my selection. I hear you have the finest tastes.”  
  
“I do.”  
  
Force. This was ridiculous. She loved it.  
  
From there, the conversation devolved into Akon attempting to talk to Kanan about art, and Kanan stonewalling him at every possible junction. In the meantime, Hera was looking at Sabine, concern still in her eyes. Clearly, Hera didn’t love her new look. She shot the Twilek a slight smile, hoping that, like Ezra, Hera would understand her hidden meaning. Hera returned the smile with one of her own. Message received.  
  
Then, there was another knock on the door. This one, with a declaration.  
  
“We’ve got the boy!”  
  
The doors then opened, once again, to reveal Ezra, looking dirty but no worse for wear. Hera’s eyes widened with delight and Kanan smiled slightly.  
  
When Ezra caught sight of their motley group, his eyes immediately brightened and a grin lit up his face like a beacon.  
  
And then, all hell broke loose.  
  
Ezra reached up to his neck and deactivated the device, just as they had planned, as it dropped to the floor, he spun slightly and knocked his guards right into each other, causing them to tumble to the ground in a heap.  
  
Simultaneously, Kanan Force-pushed Akon into the wall of the gallery, knocking him into, ironically, one of her pieces. He tumbled to the ground, unconscious. Chopper then fired a lightsaber into the air, Kanan’s, which was retrieved by his grinning apprentice.  
  
Ezra raced over to her, lightsaber in hand, and sliced away her restraint. It fell to the ground, and she stomped it into a misshapen heap with her horrible sandal.  
  
Hera jumped the table in one graceful move and pulled both Ezra and Sabine into a hug.  
  
“I’m so glad to see you both. I’m glad you’re ok.”  
  
Sabine would never admit to the tears in her eyes, but she returned the hug fiercely.  
  
“Let’s go home.” She whispered, taking Ezra’s hand in hers.  
  
“But first. I need my armor. And my guns. I want my karking guns, Ezra Bridger.”  
  
\---------------  
  
Escaping the complex was surprisingly easy when you had two Jedi, well Kanan and Ezra doing his best while still slightly drugged, and two WESTARs. She got a lot of satisfaction from shooting her way out but got even more from freeing the other captives. She also planted some explosives in the detention levels. She was going to make sure that no one would be held there again, at least not for some time.  
  
When they finally made it to the surface, she activated the explosives and then ran.  
  
She didn’t look back.  
  
Zeb met them at the Ghost with a relieved salute from the Captain’s chair.  
  
It was so good to be home.  
  
\---------------  
  
Later, after they had dropped the other captives with a Rebellion cell on a nearby planet and the Ghost had entered hyperspace, she walked into her cabin. She brushed her hand against the familiar art on the walls, a piece of herself here, even when she wasn’t.  
  
She heard his footsteps before his knock and was waiting at the door controls. When the door hissed open, she grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. He was clean again, recently showered like herself, and dressed in a fresh set of his perpetually orange clothes.  
  
He was shifting from one foot to another, a blush coloring his cheeks.  
  
“Hey, Sabine.” He said, blush intensifying.  
  
“Hey, Ezra.” She responded, a grin starting at the edges of her mouth.  
  
“Look, I just wanted to say that we can pretend it all didn’t happen. I know it was, like, extenuating circumstances, and it was really scary, and maybe I thought for a while there that we wouldn’t make it out…”  
  
“Ezra.” She stopped him, letting herself smile fully at his bumbling.  
  
“…I mean I totally get it if…”  
  
“EZRA!” She tried again. “I don’t want to forget it. I don’t want to pretend.”  
  
He smiled then, sapphire eyes brimming with starlight.  
  
“Then, I think I may have something to say.”  
  
She pulled him into a hug then, unable and unwilling to have him parted from her.  
  
“I love you, Sabine Wren. I have and I will.”  
  
She didn’t stop the tears this time. It was justified, she figured, after everything they’d been through in these last few days.  
  
“I painted you.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I was supposed to be painting for Akon, but I painted you instead. You’re in my head, Ezra, and you know how I feel.”  
  
He pulled her even closer. Heart to beating heart.  
  
“I think I’m beginning to.” He murmured.  
  
It was, she thought, the beginning of everything.____


End file.
